“Just as I thought.”
A single slime reacts to my words, wobbling its way toward me.
It looks harmless and almost cute, but letting your guard down would be a grave mistake. The slime’s body is mostly made of a highly corrosive acid.
The slimes in this upper area of the dungeon are relatively weak, causing only mild burns on the skin. However, deeper inside, there are slimes capable of dissolving iron with their potent acid.
I slip on the gloves I brought for this very reason—sturdy black leather ones.
Trusting in their protection, I plunge my hands into the slime’s body.
The creature quivers violently, but I pay no mind. With a firm grip, I seize the magical core nestled inside its goo and yank it out.
The slime’s body loses its elasticity and disintegrates into a puddle, seeping into the ground.
“Now, I’ve finally made it to the starting line.”
This marks the true beginning. Though I’ve entered the dungeon, I lacked what was needed to proceed—a weapon.
Sure, I have the skill “Weapon Creation”, but it requires a magic core to function.
I feel a slight pang of guilt toward the dungeon staff member I lied to when I claimed I was ready. But hey, it worked out in the end, so no harm done, right?
“A sharp tip, balanced center…”
I focus, activating my skill.
In my mind, a sequence unfolds—a detailed flow of how to manipulate mana. This is the effect of “Weapon Creation”.
By following this sequence, I instinctively know I can forge a weapon.
For my first creation, I decide to make a spear—specifically, a throwing spear.
Starting simple feels like the safest bet. A spear only needs to fly straight and pierce its target. Unlike a dagger, which requires precision and sharpness, a throwing spear seems achievable even for a beginner.
“Damn, this is harder than I thought.”
I struggle immensely. Now I understand why “Weapon Creation” is considered one of the least popular skills.
Still, I’m close—just a little more effort, and I think I can get it.
I sit on the ground and resume the crafting process, occasionally pausing to harvest more cores from wandering slimes.
“Finally… it’s done.”
By the time my eyes had fully adjusted to the darkness, I’d managed to craft a spear taller than I am.
Not just one, either—while forging, I extracted cores from additional slimes, resulting in four spears in total.
Once the first was complete, the others came much easier.
Exhausted, I want nothing more than to go home, but instead, I venture further into the dungeon.
Today, I have three goals:
- Enter the dungeon.
- Use my skill.
- Kill a monster with a weapon.
While I initially thought I’d stop at goal #2, I find myself motivated to aim for all three.
Carrying two spears in each hand, I set all but one down on the ground.
Out of the darkness emerges a wolf, panting heavily, its glowing eyes fixed on me.
This wasn’t in the intel I had. Was it a mistake in the documentation?
No time to dwell on that. I hurl my spear at the wolf.
The wolf sidesteps gracefully, but the attack grazes its face, leaving a wound.
The beast, now on high alert, glares at me and growls, pacing back and forth. Slowly, it advances, step by step.
With limited spears, I can’t waste any more throws. I steady my aim, ready to strike when the distance closes.
The closer it gets, the higher the chance of landing a hit—but also, the higher the risk of getting attacked.
I’m unarmored. A single mistake could cost me my life.
Five steps. Four. Three. Two—
“Shit!”
At the last moment, the wolf charges. I hurl the spear in panic, and it misses.
Throwing a spear is harder than it looks—unlike a baseball, it’s long and unwieldy.
The fact that my first throw grazed it was likely sheer luck.
Desperately, I grab another spear and throw it without proper form, only for it to miss as well.
By the time I reach for the last spear, the wolf is already leaping toward me, its jaws wide open.
My mind blanks.
Breathing heavily, I slowly open my eyes.
In front of me lies the wolf, a gaping hole in its torso. A bloodied spear is lodged in the ground.
It seems the wolf impaled itself on my poorly handled spear during its charge.
“Hah, what a pathetic way to die…”
I laugh bitterly, regaining my composure. Retrieving the spears I’d thrown, I notice something peculiar.
The bloodied spear is clean again.
Returning to where the wolf fell, I find no carcass—only a magic core left behind.
I pocket the core, much like I did with the slimes’.
“I’m done. Let’s head back.”
Muttering to myself, I turn toward the surface.
But I stop abruptly, realizing a new problem.
“What do I do with the spears?”
In the 30 years since superhuman abilities and skills became a reality, Japan’s weapon control laws haven’t changed.
In short, taking spears home is illegal.
The adventurer’s guild offers storage services for weapons, but the cost increases with the number and size of the items. Storing four spears would be expensive.
The solution is simple—combine the four into one spear.
These spears are essentially concentrated mana in physical form. If I break them back down into mana, I should be able to reforge them into a single weapon.
It’s a risky gamble, but worth trying.
I place the spears on the ground and begin the process.
Breaking them down into mana is easy, but the separate energies resist merging, like oil and water.
Still, I press on. Losing the mana now would be wasteful.
Gritting my teeth, I force the rebellious energies to combine.
